As a therapist who works in a school with adolescents, February brings the winter dream of a snow day. Teachers and students alike monitor the weather, gleefully sharing forecasts and checking the snow day calculator when even a flake is forecast to fall. I recall vividly a day last year when a snow day was called the day before the storm; the school building shook with excitement as the notification was received.
What is it about a snow day?
Beyond connecting us to the childhood joys of snowmen, sledding, and hot chocolate, snow days offer the gift of unexpected free time. Unlike a weekend or day off, where plans are made and appointments are scheduled, snow days mean nothing is happening except what you decide to do. Sleep in, hang with your family, watch a movie, play a board game, call a friend… – the options are endless.
It bums me out that we live in a world where virtual school could replace snow days. They shouldn’t. Snow days are a childhood rite, almost sacred.
So even if we don’t get that coveted notification of a snow day this year, “take a moment” to figure out how to press pause to create an unexpected moment of connection, joy, or restoration.
